Jane dragged Harriet ashore; then Miss Elting grasped the unconscious girl almost roughly, flung her over on her stomach and began applying “first aid to the drowned.”

“Ith—­ith she dead?” gasped Tommy.

“She’s drowned, darlin’,” answered Crazy Jane McCarthy abruptly.

CHAPTER IV

A QUESTION OF POLITICS

“Lay her over on her back!”

Jane obeyed Miss Elting’s command promptly.  The guardian, using her wet handkerchief, cleared Harriet’s mouth by keeping the tongue down to admit the air.

“Work her arms back and forth.  We must set up artificial respiration,” she directed.

Jane, without any apparent excitement, began a steady movement of the patient’s arms, bringing them together above the head, then down to the sides.  She continued this as steadily as if she were not face to face with a great tragedy.  She did not yet know whether or not it were a tragedy; but, if appearances went for anything, it was.  In the meantime the guardian had glanced over her shoulder at the pond.  She saw the trunk slowly drifting in.

“Get it and open it, Hazel,” she commanded.

“I haven’t a key.”

“Break it open with a stone.  Never mind a key.”

Hazel ran out into the water until she was up to her neck, then she swam out.  Reaching the floating trunk, she got behind it and began pushing it shoreward.  Margery and Tommy stood watching the proceedings in speechless horror.  Hazel got the trunk ashore, when, following the guardian’s directions, she broke the lock open with a stone.

“It’s open,” she cried.

“Are the things inside very wet?”

“No; they are just as dry as they can be.”

“Good.  Are Harriet’s clothes there?”

“I think so.  Shall I take them out?”

“Not just yet.  I will tell you if they are needed.”

Hazel understood what was in the mind of the guardian.  Were Harriet Burrell not to recover, the dry clothing would not be needed.  Nevertheless, Hazel piled the contents of the trunk on the ground, then replaced it, leaving Harriet’s belongings at the top of the pile, so that they would be ready at hand in case of need.  In the meantime Crazy Jane and Miss Elting persisted in their efforts to resuscitate the unconscious girl.  Though no sign of returning life rewarded their labor, they continued without a second’s halting.  Half an hour had passed.  That was lengthened to an hour, then suddenly Jane stopped, leaned over and peered into the pale face of Harriet.

“I see a little color returning!” she cried in a shrill voice.  “Hurrah!  Harriet’s alive!”

“You don’t thay?” exclaimed Tommy.

“Keep her arms going!  Don’t stop for a single second,” commanded Miss Elting.  “Hazel, take off Harriet’s shoes.  Beat the bottoms of her feet.  Oh, if we had something warm to put her in.  Margery, you get out Harriet’s clothing from the trunk.”